


Lovingly Sleepy

by irleragon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Rosie wants attention, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 07:33:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20224156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irleragon/pseuds/irleragon
Summary: Rosie awakens John and Sherlock, Sherlock offers to get her. He brings her back to bed with him, where fluffiness ensues. Sherlock roams the Watson room in his Mind Palace.





	Lovingly Sleepy

A piercing cry wakes Sherlock from his light sleep. He hears John groan next to him, covering his ears.

"Bloody hell..", John mumbles, and Sherlock laughs softly. "I've got her, John," Sherlock states.

"You got her last time," John mumbles back, but is already closing his eyes again.

Sherlock lifts the covers off himself and slides out of their bed.

He exits the bedroom and walks down the hall to Watson's room, where she is still crying out in her crib.

"Hello, little Watson," Sherlock's baritone voice greets her, and she immediately calms down.

"Sh'ock!" comes the reply from the tiny toddler, lifting her arms up.

He reaches into the crib, picking her up where he places her on his hip.

"Are you hungry?" He asks the toddler, who responds by grabbing a lock of his curly hair.

He sorts through his list of signs that a child is hungry, and deduces that she is not.

He bounces her on his hip, deciding what to do with her.

"Did you just want attention, Watson?"

She responds by saying "Sh'ock!" again, tugging on his hair.

"Do you want to go see your papa?"  
She squeals at the mention of John.

He laughs softly at the toddlers communication and decides to bring her back to bed with him.

He walks back to his and John's bedroom, to find John sitting up in bed.

"I was worried. Is she okay?"  
  
Sherlock nods an affirmative, setting the child down on her feet on the bed where she walks to John.

"Papa!" She squeals as he picks her up, setting her on his lap, smiling brightly.

"There's my little monster," he pecks her cheeks, looking over at Sherlock with the same bright smile.

"Thank you for getting her, love," He reaches out a hand for Sherlock to get back into bed, which he does, and places said hand on Sherlock's thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

Sherlock puts an arm around John's shoulder, pulling him close and subtly smelling his hair.

Rosie crawls up John to situate herself in between them, and John pulls the covers up just enough to cover up to her neck, about up to their waists as they were sitting up.

They sit in silence, John rubbing small, soft circles into Sherlock's thigh, Sherlock rubbing John's shoulder. "Looks like someone has the right idea," John glances down at Rosie, who is already back fast asleep.

With his other hand, John cups Sherlock's cheek and pulls him into a soft kiss, Sherlock closing his eyes and kissing back, memorising the feeling of John's lips against his own.

They pull away, but only slightly, breathing each others air. "Time to go back to sleep, love."  
Sherlock nods, but knows he's not going to be able to go back to sleep.

Ever since they had gotten together, Sherlock had stopped (well, cut back on) his 3a.m. violin sessions, choosing to give into his transports needs and sleep next to his lover.

But this interruption was something he needed to document; the smell of John's hair, Watson's squeals of delight, the press of John lips against his own.

Sherlock leans back against his pillows, propping his head on his folded fingers, in an adapted meditation position.

He opens the doors to his Mind Palace, walking down the halls, past the music room, past his living room, and into the Watson room.

In the Watson room is a bed- _their _bed-, two bedside tables, an end table, and Watson's crib.

He approaches John's side of the bed, opening the drawer where he keeps his most precious John memories.

The smile John gave him is now placed amongst those precious memories.

The soft kiss they shared is also placed in a compartment labelled "Kisses."

He then approaches Watson's crib, where there are some of her favourite stuffed animals. He takes the memory of her holding onto him and places it in the crib, where it sinks into the bed.

He then stands in the middle of the room, eyes roaming the walls. Everything he enjoys about being human is in this room. All his favourite memories are stored in this very room;

Their very first kiss, after Mary died. (John was still deep in mourning, eight months later. Sherlock had rushed into John's bedroom after hearing screaming coming from the room. He held John as he sobbed into Sherlock's shoulder. After John's sobbing died down, he pulled away from Sherlock, wiping his eyes and hiccuping. Sherlock's hands roamed up of their own accord, cupping John's face, wiping his tears. In a moment of human weakness, Sherlock presses a soft kiss to John's lips.

But John, incredible John, kissed him back, his own hands coming up to cup Sherlock's face.)

Him and John dancing in the living room. (John had found one of Sherlock's recordings of himself playing violin, and they found themselves in each others arms within a moment, Johns hands cupping Sherlocks neck, Sherlocks hands on Johns waist. Their first truly intimate moment together.)

The hug he and John shared at John's wedding. (That one didn't need explaining. Sherlock had marked that as one of his worst days, but even bad days can have highlight.)

Sherlock exits the room, walking to the front doors of his Mind Palace and coming back into present time.

He glances over at John to find the other man still awake, studying him.

John reaches over to Sherlock, taking his hand. "What were you doing in there, love?" He asks, squeezing Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock squeezes back, "Just.. Documenting some things."

John nods in the darkness, running his hand up Sherlock's arm, light fingers tracing patterns onto his arm. Sherlock lays his hand on John's thigh, doing the same.

They sit in quiet silence, neither of them wanting to ruin the intimate atmosphere that has arisen in the air.

Eventually, Sherlock shifts onto his side to face John, looking directly into his lovers eyes. "I love you, John." John leans in to press his forehead to Sherlock's, taking care not to squish Rosie, "I know, love. As do I."

They meet in the middle for a soft kiss, nothing intense, just the soft press of lips against lips, two people who love each other immensely showing their affection.

They pull apart, only barely, breathing each others air, foreheads still pressed together, and they fall asleep like that; Rosie in the middle of them, foreheads pressed together, Sherlock's arm around John's waist, holding him close.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this is kinda a shitty ending so I may edit it eventually.


End file.
